


the terrible burden of Knowing (and having a fat ass)

by dygonilly



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, DJ Boo, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Lady Gaga, Slice of Life, Staring, Tenderness, a failed soonkwan murder attempt in broad daylight, lee chan suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dygonilly/pseuds/dygonilly
Summary: Hansol has been working out lately. Seungkwan knew this because he’s been the one nagging him to do it, but he only just Realised.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 330





	the terrible burden of Knowing (and having a fat ass)

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday ria. here is your slice of birthday cake. i hope you enjoy it.

Seungkwan takes a sip through his straw only to get a mouthful of melted ice. He frowns and rattles the cup. “Chan! Another.”

Chan looks over from the coffee machine with a sigh. “Hyung, can’t you make it yourself?”

“I’m busy.”

Chan snatches the cup out of his hand and viciously adds fresh ice to the cup. Seungkwan tries to police how many cubes there are but he backs off when Chan looks at him like he’s about to commit murder. “You haven’t helped a single customer since you came in,” he grumbles.

“Umm, what do you call this?” Seungkwan clears his throat and starts talking to the space next to Chan’s shoulder in an airy voice: “Oh you want decaf? And you brought your own milk! Of course, of course, we love to accommodate. Ha ha. No it’s not free, but that’s a good joke! You should be a comedian.” He drops the act and points a finger at Chan. “Good reviews don’t write themselves. What are  _ you  _ doing for this company?”

Chan grinds the coffee beans with a dead expression. 

“And you’re doing a  _ great  _ job,” Seungkwan coos.

Chan rolls his eyes but he’s smiling just enough for Seungkwan to know he can get away with going back to doing nothing. Well, as previously clarified, he’s not doing  _ nothing _ , but he is spending the majority of his time staring at his boyfriend where he’s sitting at the corner table, textbooks spread out around him like a crime scene. His headphones are pressing his hair down in funny places and his facial expression hasn’t shifted for maybe half an hour. Seungkwan will give it another five minutes, then he’ll go over and see if he’s okay.

Soonyoung comes out the back room with his hat on backwards. “Kwan-ah!” he booms. “Do something useful.” 

Seungkwan holds his phone up without looking away from Hansol. “I’m DJ’ing,” he says.

“You’re hitting shuffle on  _ Chromatica _ . I don’t think that counts.” 

Seungkwan glances around to make sure there are no customers looking their way before pretending to jump Soonyoung, who flinches satisfyingly. Seungkwan tugs his apron straight with a smug grin. “You don’t get to have an opinion,” he says sweetly. “Last time you had control of the music you looped  _ Romeo+Juliette _ for three hours. I think we lost half our regulars.”

Soonyoung shrugs and takes a huge bite of a pastry. “Good.” 

Seungkwan scoffs and turns away to hide his smile; Soonyoung can’t know he’s funny. He wears animal print unironically and chews with his mouth open. He’s one successful joke away from starting a YouTube channel nobody asked for and Seungkwan doesn’t have the time to support something like that.

He puts a Beyoncé song on out of spite and goes back to leaning on his elbows, admiring his boyfriend’s side profile. He’s started bobbing his head and tapping one of his pens on the table to the beat, mouth tracing lyrics Seungkwan cannot follow. He’s so cute. 

“Three americanos a day and you’re still so thirsty,” Soonyoung says, leaning next to Seungkwan. 

“Shut up.”

“You two stare at each other a lot. It’s weird.”

Seungkwan scoffs. “It’s romantic.”

“Yeah, if you’re a vampire,” Soonyoung says. He takes another colossal bite of his food and speaks through his mouthful: “Hansollie is getting really beefy these days.”

“Please use normal words.”

Soonyoung frowns. “Chunky boy?”

“Mm, try again.”

“Thick… big…” Soonyoung visibly struggles and Seungkwan takes pity on him.

“We’ve been doing pilates together. It’s a great bonding activity.” He’s been waking them both up at 8am sharp for a strict rotation of exercises from Monday to Friday. On weekends, they sleep in, but it’s balanced out by a) a healthy afternoon walk or b) Hansol fucking him for a full hour. Or Hansol getting fucked. Seungkwan had a rotation for that too--he put it on the fridge before he remembered their friends do also visit their apartment and after Mingyu saw it and almost started crying from how hard he was laughing, Seungkwan decided it was safer to just let things like that happen organically.

Soonyoung hums. “Sure, but I think it’s the gym sessions that are really doing it. I’m sure you know  _ all  _ about those.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Seungkwan.

“Ha ha,” Seungkwan says woodenly. “What?”

“Bro, we’ve been lifting together. You didn’t know?”

Seungkwan sees God. “Of course I did,” he says through his teeth. It’s not a lie--he knew that Hansol was going to the gym. In theory. He just didn’t put two and two together. Which sounds ridiculous because Seungkwan is a very organised man, but he also sees Hansol everyday, goes to sleep and wakes up beside him. It’s only natural that some things would slip past his notice. “I’m going on break,” he says distractedly, pulling his apron off before Soonyoung can tell him he’s not allowed.

Hansol looks up at his approach and slips his headphones down to rest around his neck. “Hey.” He points in the general direction of the music and grins. “DJ Boo on the decks?” 

“The one and only.” Seungkwan slides into the chair opposite him and folds his hands together on the table between them. He studies the familiar angles of his boyfriend’s face, the slope of his neck, the broad stretch of his shoulders. Hansol doesn’t question it, never one to push a silence away unless he needs to. He simply relaxes in his chair and watches Seungkwan back with a lazy grin. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s two sizes too big and--no, wait, it’s only one size too big--

“Give me your hand,” Seungkwan demands, clicking his fingers. 

Hansol obeys willingly. 

It’s the same familiar skin, same pattern of freckles and faded veins leading into his inner elbow, but now that he’s looking for it Seungkwan definitely feels more muscle under his fingers. His lizard brain feeds him a memory from two nights ago when Hansol held him over his lap while he fucked up into him and barely even broke a sweat. Seungkwan starts to feel a flush creeping up his neck. 

Hansol leans in and whispers, “Why do you have your horny face on?”

“I do not!” Seungkwan drops Hansol’s hand like it’s burning him. “We are in my place of work and I would never--” Hansol raises an eyebrow and he falters, “Never  _ repeat…  _ certain actions.”

“Aw,” Hansol drawls, “That’s a shame.” His grin has gone lopsided the way it does when he’s starting to flirt, and he pointedly looks at the bathroom door and back to Seungkwan with one eyebrow raised. He’s a lot bolder than he used to be. It flusters Seungkwan more than he’d ever admit aloud.

“Stop that,” he whispers, hitting Hansol’s arm.

“I’m not doing anything,” Hansol says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, eyes sparkling. And, fine, if that’s the game he wants to play.

“Alright. Why don’t we make a deal,” Seungkwan says, voice low, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of Hansol’s wrist. “I’ll let you top again tonight, but you have to do something for me.”

“Very self sacrificing of you.”

“Oh are you not interested?” Seungkwan starts to pull back but Hansol’s fingers wrap around his wrist to hold him close. 

“You know I am.” He’s staring at Seungkwan’s mouth now. Hook line and sinker. “What do I have to do?”

Seungkwan hums like he’s thinking about it. He takes a slow sip of Hansol’s latte and purposefully lets a little bit linger on his bottom lip so that he can lick it away and watch Hansol’s eyes track the movement. Then, “All you have to do is… finish your essay.”

Hansol groans and slumps back into his chair. 

“Yah, I’m giving you motivation. You’re  _ welcome _ .” Seungkwan stands up just enough to kiss him over the table, quick but a little dirty, fingers in his hair. “Now watch me walk away.”

Hansol slaps his ass as he passes, hard enough for it to echo through the café, and Chan looks over at them with a resigned expression. It’s not that they intentionally flirt in front of him, he just always seems to be there when it happens.

When Seungkwan gets back behind the counter, Soonyoung pops up out of nowhere and almost gives him a heart attack at his young age. “Hyung, what the hell?” he gasps, hand clutching his chest.

“Please refrain from eye fucking your boyfriend where we can see,” Soonyoung tuts. “I think you’ve traumatised the child.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Chan says indignantly.

“You’re also burning the coffee,” Seungkwan points out. He neatly dodges the teaspoon thrown in his direction.

  
  


*

  
  


As soon as they’re back at home, Hansol tugs Seungkwan in close and kisses him. Seungkwan melts into it for a few seconds before wriggling away. 

“I need to shower, I’m gross.”

“You’re not gross,” Hansol whines in a baby voice, trying to pull him back.

“I smell like coffee grounds and I’m all sweaty. Unhand me!” 

Hansol does not unhand him; he follows him to the bathroom and starts dropping his clothes on the tiles (then he picks them up and puts them in the laundry hamper) and then he’s naked and crouching in their bathtub-shower, twisting the handles with a scrunched nose because the temperature is impossible to get right. He accidentally turns the cold water on full blast and screeches, and Seungkwan loves him. 

After another minute of struggling and groaning pipes, Hansol makes a satisfied sound. He leans around the flimsy glass door and asks, “You know you have to take your clothes off before getting in, right?” 

Seungkwan makes a show of it, and even though he’s probably never done anything less sexy in his life than tripping on his jeans and almost braining himself on the sink, Hansol still laughs with stars in his eyes and happily pulls him under the perfectly-warm water.

“Hello,” he says, kissing Seungkwan’s nose. “Do you want me to wash your hair for you?”

Seungkwan nods and turns around to face the tiles. The smell of his favourite shampoo floats along the steam between their bodies and when Hansol starts massaging his scalp, he moans quietly. Hansol takes it as an invitation to move one hand down to the nape of his neck and gently knead the muscle there, encouraging the knots to loosen. “Feels nice,” Seungkwan says quietly. 

Hansol hums and kisses the angle of his jaw. “Rinse.” 

Seungkwan switches places with him. Once he’s finished, he opens his eyes to find Hansol looking at him, eyelids heavy. He raises an eyebrow. “You know what happened last time we tried that.”

“But I’m horny,” whines Hansol.

“Horny enough for a near death experience?” Hansol opens his mouth but Seungkwan cuts him off. “No. You can wait.” He pours a healthy amount of mint-vanilla body wash into his palm and liberally applies it to Hansol’s chest, massaging in small circles, moving along his collarbones and over the solid shape of his shoulders. Like… really solid. Huh. Seungkwan gets a hand on each bicep and squeezes, fingers slipping a little with the soap, then he moves both palms onto Hansol’s stomach and waist and repeats the action. He’s so absorbed in his journey around Hansol’s hot bod that he doesn’t realise how tense his boyfriend has become until he exhales sharply, a rush of hot air between them.

“You’re really not helping,” Hansol says, a little strained. Seungkwan looks down.

“Oh! Hello!” He addresses Hansol’s half-hard dick in a nasally baby voice.

“Argh, don’t,” Hansol laughs, cringing away. Seungkwan smiles angelically and nudges him back under the water to wash off the soap. He knows he’s annoying but really, he only gives what he gets. Relationships are a balancing act: every time Hansol does something like finish his organic yoghurt without buying more first or flirt with him where neither of them can follow through (i.e. in front of Lee Chan), Seungkwan slams down his sexy portcullis and implements a no-touching policy.

Well. Until he gets horny enough to call it off. Which is usually less than an hour, but look--it’s the act of resistance that counts.

“Do you wanna get take-out for dinner?” Hansol asks. Seungkwan is too busy staring at the way his arms flex as he rinses his hair to respond with real words.

“Uh huh.”

“Seungkwan.”

“Mhmmm.”

Hansol laughs and taps him between the eyes. “I’ll call the place down the road. You gonna let me pass?”

“Only if you say the magic words.”

“I love you.”

Seungkwan blows a raspberry and Hansol grins. He reaches around Seungkwan and grabs a handful. “I love your ass.”

“Much better. You may go.”

Hansol tries his hardest to reach for a towel while keeping most of his body inside the shower. Seungkwan idly watches him struggle for a full minute before telling him it’s okay if he drips on the tiles, as long as he wipes it up before Seungkwan gets out. Hansol dries his hair first, rubbing it like he’s trying to create enough static electricity to power a small village. Their bathroom light isn’t super flattering but Seungkwan still lets his eyes drag over Hansol’s body as he exfoliates his arms. His stomach is still soft and his ass could be doing better things for society, but Seungkwan enjoys it anyway; there’s no doubt his arms have filled out, though, and the strength in his thighs is obvious. 

“Hm. Hansollie,” he calls sweetly. Hansol looks at him through the mirror. “You finished your essay, right?”

Hansol’s face freezes. “Right.” He’s lying, of course--Seungkwan pretended to be checking Instagram on the bus home when he was actually scrolling through Hansol’s Google document, and it’s a half-finished mess. He’ll help him work on it tomorrow. Tonight, however.

Seungkwan smiles. “Good. Don’t get dressed.”

Hansol whips his towel off his hips like a magician and tries to disappear from sight before it hits the tiles. He fails miserably because the bathroom door handle always gets jammed, but Seungkwan claps anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> seungkwan fought me every step of the way but somehow we made it work hah.. aaa haha. i think.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dygonilly)


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